


In A Whisper

by flinchflower



Series: The 50kinkyways [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Discipline, M/M, Voice/Phone sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-09
Updated: 2011-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-23 13:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 23: Voice or Phone Sex.  Whispering in the dark, Sam tortures Dean, and John hands out a little parental discipline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> I borrowed the characters originally so I could use them as a writing exercise, to see how close I could get the characterization. Then I was corrupted by porn. And kink. Here’s a side of kink. This is simply for practice, not publication or profit. I’m in the hole by about 30 grand, if you’d like to seize my debt as punishment. AU in that I refuse to admit the death of John Winchester.

They’re lying together in the big bed, listening to the rumble of John’s voice talking with Bobby. John had been about two seconds away standing up and heading for Sam, telling him and Dean to go to bed for the third time – Dean marveled that John actually got to three – when Dean figured discretion was indeed the better part of valor, and dragged Sam bodily from the room. When they were boys, the second warning was usually followed up by a stern escort to the bedroom, and the issuing of a standard spanking, with accompanying lecture on questioning orders. They were grown now, but that hadn’t stopped John a couple times in recent memory…

Sam resisted just enough to make his point, waiting until they were in the bedroom to shove Dean. The older boy slapped his ass in retaliation, and a yell came from downstairs.

“So help me GOD, if I have to come up there…” John let the threat trail off, and they heard Bobby chuckle. They changed and crawled into the bottom bunk, the double wide, leaving the top one for Dad, when he eventually came to bed.

Truth be told, Dean was just as frustrated as Sam – just managed to hide it from John better. The hunt wasn’t going well, everywhere they turned they hit a new wall. He sighed, Sam pushed at him half heartedly, and Dean surprised both of them by rolling over and kissing him intensely. Sam’s doe eyes stared up at him.

“Dude, we so can’t-“

Dean flopped back down. “I know.”

“But you got me all…”

Dean muffled a laugh. Sometimes it didn’t take much with his little brother. At least he’d succeeded in getting Sam to think about something other than his irritation. He rolled onto his back, feeling satisfied. A long silence ensued, and he finally closed his eyes – Sam was going to give up and go to sleep, thank god.

Then came the whisper.

“Shoulda stayed down there.”

“Sam…”

“Dad woulda spanked both of us.”

Dean squirms uncomfortably. The thought is horrifying, of course, but then his brain wanders over to the thought of Sam’s ass, bright red after a spanking. He tries to head it off.

“You said it yourself, we can’t. Not with Dad and Bobby right downstairs,” he says, hoping it will shut Sam up.

“I could blow you.”

Dean doesn’t have a response to that.

“I mean,” Sam continues, “if you could keep quiet, I could go down on you, under the sheets, slide you out of your boxers, run my tongue along the tip just the way you like, and stroke your balls.”

Dean blinks. This is SO not happening. Sam is NOT a sexually forward person.

Sam’s voice is hushed enough that it won’t carry, and there’s something husky in the whisper, something sultry. “Or maybe I could slick up my finger with the precome that’s soaking your head _right now_ -

Dean freezes. There’s no way Sam could have _heard_ the droplets falling from his stiffy onto his stomach, is there? It’s dark in here, he knows the kid can’t see.

“Sure, I’ll slick my finger up and then just slip it into that tight ass of yours, kind of flutter it around, stroke along that spot that gets you all wound up – I could lean over and bite your nipples, bite them hard enough to draw blood.”

Dean tries to make sure that his breathing is even, steady, should be giving Sam every indication that he’s fast asleep. The tone of Sam’s voice changes, becomes kind of musing. Dean’s brain stops at several points to mull over the suggestions his kinky little brother is suggesting. Irrationally, he yanks his attention back to the whisper, hoping he hasn’t missed anything.

“Then again, we haven’t done it in a bunk bed yet – tell me those bars above us don’t make you think about being handcuffed to them, while I slip my tongue into your cute little pucker, get you all wet. I mean, I don’t dare get out of bed to get the lube, Dad will spank me. But then again, you could watch, you wouldn’t get spanked, since you’re Daddy’s good soldier. But you know what comes next either way, right? Me pounding my cock into your tight ass, just the way you like it, ride you hard, listen to you scream.”

An inadvertent whimper escapes from Dean, and he can feel Sam radiating triumph next to him. Damn it, he’s got the half of the bed that’s up against the wall, or he’d get up to go to the bathroom or something, risk Dad’s wrath – as it is, if he moves to climb over Sam, he’s going to blow his load, because there’s something about worrying if Sam’s sultry voice is being heard somehow, listening to the filthy talk that’s got him on edge. And what an edge.

“Or maybe, since I know you’re interested, I could put on the cuffs, let you tie me down to the bed. I’d wait, you know, until you’re on the ragged edge, balls deep in my ass, and then all I’d have to do is just tighten those muscles a little bit – you know the ones I mean, _Dean_ ,” comes the oversexed whisper.

Dean’s ready to cry. Sam’s lying on his stomach, he can tell, and he’d love to reach over and smack some sense into him via his supposedly innocent ass- _drive his dick into that tight ass, more like_ \- and oh, god, are those footsteps coming up the stairs?

Sam shifts a little, eyes glinting in the darkness. “Nah. I wouldn’t do that. But I sure could let you ride me, while I plunge that vibrator you like deep in your ass, DEAN,“ he says, way louder on Dean’s name than the whole rest of the filthy litany was.

Dean barely manges to stifle his groan, because as he rolls, turning his back on Sam, he’s coming fast and furious, just as the footsteps stop at their door. The door opens, and Dean is Going. To. Die. Any. Minute. John’s footsteps enter, and Dean hears him yank the covers back, slap Sam’s ass twice.

“What part of get to sleep did you not understand? Now leave your brother alone, and if I hear talking up here again, I’ll take both of you the hell over my knee, twenty-three and twenty-seven notwithstanding, Samuel Winchester.”

Dean hears a meek “yessir,” from his brother, who hates like hell to be spanked by John – Dean’s surprised the man doesn’t use it to his advantage more. John’s footsteps recede, and Dean rolls over, and grabs Sam’s arm. The idiot yelps, and the door opens again.

“Dean.”

“Yessir,” he chokes.

“Last warning.”

“Yessir.”

The door closes again, and it isn’t until John’s footsteps fade downstairs and they hear him and Bobby take up the conversation again that they move. Sam moves first, tentatively, he leans over, pulls on Dean’s arm so that Dean rolls onto his back, and he drops a kiss onto his big brother’s lips. Dean recognizes a half-apology in the kiss and gives back a little, then puts a firm palm on Sam’s chest, hoping Sam gets the message.

Sam hears it loud and clear. _Thank you, stop now, and you’re dead as soon as I get the chance._ There are just some nights when it’s good to be alive.


End file.
